It seems like every Saturday, whether I am working or not, my luck is sucky. Or have I just lost my mind. Probably the latter. It doesn’t help that I am a giant klutz.
This morning I slept in. Which means I was up by 7. I decided to clean the couch. That is what I call it. Some say sofa or divan. You gotta love the English language that has two or three words for the same things or two or three ways to spell the same word. Ok, back to my story.
Last week I had cleaned the love seat. Actually, I had started cleaning it but had to leave, so I had one of the kids finish it. I didn’t think to tell them to dump the water out of it when he was done. (When I went to fill the tank with water I didn’t even notice he had started the machine until J asked, “Isn’t that tank you have in your hand supposed to be on it before he starts it?”) My cleaner is a little hand held Bissell that I got for Mother’s day last year. It was presented to me and immediately borrowed and not to be seen again until I asked for my present back.
When I picked up the cleaner I immediately smelled something foul. It reminded me of sewage. I unhooked the tank that needed dumped and promptly dropped it on my feet, couch and floor. Of course my loud string of curse words drew my family to the living room, where they each commented on the horrible stench, made gagging noises and left the room.
This easy job of cleaning the couch turned into more work for me. I now needed a shower, had to wash the towels I used to clean up the mess and then had to mop the floor. Thankful I don’t have carpet.
*I put a couple drops of doTERRA Wild Orange in the tank that smelled like ass. It no longer reeks.